


Have Mercy

by ashenrenee6968



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fluff, I'll add more tags later, Multi, Tombraxmione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashenrenee6968/pseuds/ashenrenee6968
Summary: It was an accident, a single moment if time she could never take back. Actions have consequences, but in this case it might not be too bad. Non-magical AU. Tombraxmione triad.





	1. A Horrible Date

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, this is JK Rowling's sandbox, I'm just building castles.

If there was one thing that Hermione Granger could say for certain it was that she was _never_ letting Harry set her up on a blind date again. Though he meant well he obviously couldn't be trusted to pick a date for anyone other than himself, and given the level of crazy his ex-girlfriends all exuded he couldn't be trusted to do that either. 

She couldn't remember what had possessed her to say yes to the date in the first place, clearly she'd been ill that day, as she normally went out of her way to avoid dating at all. It had been nearly two years since she and her ex-fiance had broken things off, and in that time she'd only been on two dates, both of which had ended with a pleasant goodbye and a curt handshake. Her ex had moved on, and in all honestly she was happy for him, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to take that next step with anyone.

Hermione spent her evenings locked away in her flat, usually curled up in her favorite chair with a book and a glass of wine. The closest she'd come to having a male visitor were the nights that her neighbor, Abraxas, got so drunk he couldn't tell the difference between his flat and hers and stumbled through her door at three in the morning. If he was anyone else Hermione might have an issue with him constantly breaking and entering – because honestly how the  _hell_ did he get in on the nights she knew she'd locked the door? – but she knew he was harmless. 

Abraxas Malfoy was six-foot two and built like a lumberjack, all raw masculinity and rock hard muscles that made most women weak in the knees – Hermione included – but she'd learned pretty quickly that he was really just an over-sized teddy bear. He was a gentleman, raised to adhere to old fashioned manners, but with a wicked sense of humor that was borderline indecent at times. The fact that he had a very attractive, if supremely abrasive and infuriating, boyfriend named Tom made the situation leagues less frightening than she would have found it otherwise.

Looking across the table at her handsome, but bloody awful, companion Hermione tried to think of an excuse – any excuse at all – to leave the date early without wounding his enormous ego. She wasn't having any luck. There was something about him that told her he wouldn't accept a casual brush off and she wasn't in the mood to cause a scene. She was far too tired to put forth the effort.

He was telling her something about his professional sports career, football if she remembered correctly, and he hadn't seemed to notice yet that she wasn't paying attention. Hermione could feel her eyes glazing over and she almost thought she might actually fall asleep if he didn't stop talking.

“I'm sorry,” she said, standing up and stepping behind her chair. “Please excuse me, I need the ladies' room.”

His charming smile faltered, and she saw the brief flash of irritation that crossed his face before the smile slid smoothly back into place. “Of course, I'll go ahead and place our wine orders,” he replied. Hermione smiled at him before walking away, waiting until she was safely behind the closed door of the restroom to let her cheerful disposition drop.

She had to get out of there. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, wondering who it would be best for her to call. Deciding that Harry was a bad choice, since he was the one who had gotten her into this mess in the first place, she quickly dialed her best girlfriend's number.

“Hermione?” Pansy answered, sounding slightly annoyed. “Aren't you supposed to be on a date? I'm about to get laid, what do you want?”

“I need you to call me in a few minutes and fake an emergency,” Hermione blurted. “This is the worst date in the history of ever and I need a reason to leave.”

“It can't be that bad,” Pansy muttered, her breathing uneven.

“It is,” Hermione snapped. “It's like trying to have an intelligent conversation with a toddler.”

“Can't you- Nnngh!” Pansy moaned. “Oh God. Can't you just leave?”

“Oh my God, Pansy, are you having sex while you're on the phone with me?” Hermione demanded.

“Listen just – mmm, yes, just like that – ditch the idiot, I won't be able to call you, I'll be having an orgasm. I love you, bye!”

Hermione groaned as she hung up the phone, trying to decide what to do. She could just leave, walk out the door instead of returning to the table, it would be easy and she'd never have to see him again, but she would still feel bad. He was still a human being, even if he was a particularly unintelligent one, and she would hate to hurt his feelings or, God forbid, his ego.

Steeling herself Hermione took a deep breath as she left the restroom and head back towards the table. He started talking again before she even managed to sit down and Hermione could feel her irritation rising. She didn't last five minutes before she decided that she'd had enough.

“Listen, Conner,” she said, interrupting whatever it was that he'd been saying.

“It's Cormac,” he said frowning. Hermione grimaced, embarrassed that she'd been so distracted by how boring he was that she couldn't even correctly remember his name

“Cormac, you seem like a really nice guy,” she told him sincerely, “but I'm not so sure that this is going to work out. See, Harry has been trying to get me to go out with someone for ages and I'm just, I'm not interested in dating anyone.”

“Why did you agree to go out tonight?” he asked her, sounding irritated. She didn't really blame him. “If you're not interested in seeing anyone at all then you shouldn't have agreed to a date with me.”

“I honestly don't know why I agreed to this, Harry has been pushing dates at me left and right and I think I just ran out of reasons to tell him no,” she admitted. Cormac huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm sorry, it has nothing to do with you,” she lied as she rose from her seat and stepped away from the table. He watched her, arms crossed, expression sullen. He was _pouting._

“You're going to regret this,” he hissed when she started to walk away. Hermione stopped and turned to look at him, and for a moment, just a split second, she was sure that she saw a malicious glint in his eyes before his petulant mask slid back into place.

“I highly doubt that,” she told him seriously, before turning and walking out of the restaurant.

It was only two blocks from the restaurant to her flat, the evening air was warm and pleasant and Hermione, never one to take a cab when she didn't have to, started walking. She pulled out her phone a quickly dialed Harry's number, trying to think of exactly what she wanted to say to him because while she loved him dearly she desperately wanted to kill him.

Harry had been her best friend since primary school, he'd been the only one in their class who had never taken the Mickey out of her for her proclivity for reading. Theirs had been an easy friendship, she helped him with his homework and he kept other people from being too horrible to her. There had been a time, when they'd been dating a pair of siblings, Ginny and Ron Weasley, when they'd thought they'd actually end up being family one day.

When those relationships had fallen apart they'd both been heartbroken, Ginny had left Harry for Luna Lovegood, while Hermione and Ron had simply fallen apart. They were too different, she supposed, he was too focused on sports and was, in general, far too emotional for Hermione's tastes.

Since then Harry had turned into a bit of a man whore, not that she could blame him, Ginny had left him just after he'd gone out and gotten her a ring, he'd never had the chance to give it to her and Hermione felt grateful that he had been spared that kind of pain at least. She had been two weeks away from her own wedding when her ex-fiance had suddenly called the whole thing off. No explanations, no closure, he'd just asked for the ring back and told her he'd take care of telling everyone so she wouldn't have to.

Hermione had been shattered and Harry had been the one to pick up the pieces. She threw herself into her work, forgetting to eat, to sleep, sometimes forgetting to go home at all, until she found herself in the A&E being treated for exhaustion and severe malnutrition. Harry had lost it, he'd screamed at her for nearly an hour before he'd broken down, she'd _scared_ him. He'd thought she was going to die. After that she was more careful, she ate and slept like she was supposed to, but it didn't stop Harry from worrying about her.

“Hermione?” Harry answered. “What's wrong? I thought you were on a date tonight, is everything okay?”

“Did you honestly think that setting me up with someone that boring was a good idea?” she demanded angrily. “Honestly Harry it's like you don't know me at all. I've never met a man so dull in my life!”

“I'm sure it wasn't that bad,” Harry argued weakly.

“Sports Harry! Sports and himself, that's all he wanted to talk about,” she scoffed. “If I didn't know any better I would have thought you were trying to drive me to suicide.”

“Definitely not,” Harry laughed. “Who would abuse me and tell me what an idiot I am?”

“I do not _abuse_ you, you idiot!” Hermione said in mock outrage. “How dare you accuse me of something so absurd?” She opened the door to her building and stepped inside, making her way to the stairs. She hated elevators, and went out of her way to never take one if she could avoid it.

“Did you call just to insult me?” Harry asked.

“I called because I just wanted you to know that I'm never going on a date with anyone you suggest ever again,” she deadpanned. “Insulting you is just an added bonus.”

“I'm so hurt,” he complained. “I just feel so attacked right now.”

“Oh shut up, you do not,” Hermione said as she unlocked the door to her flat. “Seriously though Harry, why him?”

“I don't know,” Harry sighed. “He seemed like an okay bloke, Ron said-”

“Ron said? Harry James Potter tell me you didn't set me up with someone _Ron_ suggested!” Hermione nearly shrieked. “Please tell me that you didn't take advice from my ex-boyfriend about who I should go out with.” The was a long silence and she could hear Harry moving about on the other end of the line, clearly trying to think of something to say. She walked into her kitchen and started preparing the kettle to make some tea.

“I really am an idiot, aren't I?” he asked sheepishly. Hermione sighed.

“Yes Harry, you really are,” she agreed. “I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'll see you tomorrow, we'll have lunch.”

“I'm sorry Hermione,” Harry murmured. “I really am, I thought that-”

“It's fine Harry, but I meant what I said,” she told him, “I'm never going out with someone you suggest ever again.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed. “I love you Hermione.”

“I love you too Harry, I'll see you tomorrow,” she said. She hung up the phone and continued to move around the kitchen, grabbing her favorite tea mug out of the cupboard and debating on whether or not she wanted a few biscuits with her tea.

“It's funny,” a voice drawled from behind her, “at the restaurant you said that your leaving our date early had nothing to do with me but that's not what you told Potter.”

Hermione spun around, her tea mug slipping from her fingers as she found herself face to face with Cormac. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Boring am I?” Cormac asked, ignoring her question completely. “That's not a very nice thing to say.”

“If you don't leave I'm going to call the police,” she threatened. Cormac chuckled and shook his head.

“You're not going to be calling anyone Hermione,” he said, a dark smile spreading across his face. “You're going to be far too busy for that.” He moved faster than she would have thought possible for someone his size. Before she could even blink her phone was knocked out of her hand and he had her pinned up against the counter. She screamed and he clapped a large hand over her mouth. “You're going to keep that pretty mouth shut or I'm going to gag you, and you won't like what I plan to gag you with,” he told her seriously. “Do I make myself clear?”

Hermione nodded vigorously. Her entire body was shaking, her eyes stinging with tears, but she knew that the best course of action at that moment was to do as he said. He was bigger than her, she didn't have a hope in the world of overpowering him, but she might be able to distract him enough to get away. His grip on her loosened a little.

“You think you're better than me, don't you?” he asked. “You think because you're smart that it makes you superior to everyone, well let me tell you something little girl, you're wrong. You don't look so smart right now, in fact you look pretty fucking stupid to me. You walked home from the restaurant, led me right to where you live, you left the door to your flat unlocked, I mean you might as well have just invited me in. From where I'm standing you practically begged me for this.”

“Please let me go, Cormac, _please_ ,” she begged. Cormac sneered at her.

“What did I tell you?” he demanded. “Did I not tell you to keep your mouth shut?” His grip on her loosened as he took a step back. Hermione didn't hesitate, she lashed out and kicked him as hard as she could in the shin. “You bitch!” He shouted, releasing her in his surprise.

She planted both hands firmly on his chest and shoved him as hard as she could. He fell backwards, knocked off balance by her unexpected attack, and she heard the cracking of his skull as his head collided with the corner of the counter.

Time seemed to slow, Cormac lay on the floor, a small pool of blood forming beneath his head, his glassy eyes open and staring, unseeing, at the ceiling. Hermione's breath caught in her chest as realization began to sink in. He was dead. He was _dead_ , she had _killed_ him.

“Tom,” a familiar voice slurred. Hermione's head snapped up to see a very drunk Abraxas Malfoy standing in the doorway to her kitchen. “You're not going to believe what I just saw.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Abraxas was talking, telling Tom that she had killed someone and all Hermione could do was stand there and stare at him. He'd seen her kill someone, and maybe if he hadn't called Tom she could have gotten him even more drunk and when he woke up in the morning he wouldn't remember anything. But he _had_ called Tom, he had called Tom and now her life was over.

Her eyes fell back to Cormac's body. The pool of blood was bigger now, the thick, sticky liquid was going to be a bitch to clean up. She took a step forward, then stopped, not sure what she was going to do. Tom had more than likely called the police, she was more than likely going to go to prison. _Prison_ , she thought with a shudder.

It wasn't her fault, not really, he'd attacked her in her home, she'd only been protecting herself. But then, no one was going to believe that. She'd left the door unlocked, there would be no sign of forced entry so she couldn't prove that he'd broken in. He hadn't managed to hurt her, there were no defensive wounds on her person, so no one would believe that he had attacked her. Abraxas had seen her shove him, there was a _witness_ to a _murder_ that she had committed. She was fucked.

“What have I done?” she breathed, taking a step back. Her breath caught in her chest as she felt the panic start to flood through her. “Oh God what did I do? Shit, shit, _shit_.”

“Hermione.” Abraxas touched her shoulder and she shrieked in surprise and jerked away from him. When had he moved? When had he finished his conversation with Tom? How hadn't she noticed? “Tom will be here soon, he'll take care of this. It'll be okay.”

Hermione stared at him, wide eyed and confused. What did he mean Tom was going to take care of it? How was it going to be okay? There was a dead man in her kitchen! She was going to go to _prison_.

“I- I killed him,” she said, her voice wavering as she fought back tears. “I- It was an a-accident. I didn't, _fuck_ , I didn't mean to. You – damn it – you have to believe me, Abraxas please,” she begged. He stared at her blankly but didn't say anything.

“Do you have any idea what this is going to do to me? I'm going to prison Abraxas! This is going to _ruin_ everything, my life, my career. Oh my God, all of that money my parents paid to put me through University. It's all wasted now.” Tears were falling in steady streams down her face and her body was shaking violently.

Abraxas was still staring at her, his expression contemplative. “Tom is going to fix this,” was all he said.

“How drunk _are_ you?” Hermione demanded incredulously. “Tom can't 'fix' this Abraxas, not unless he can bring back the bloody dead!”

“I'm quite drunk,” he laughed, “and Tom _can_ fix it.”

Hermione gaped at him. “How can you- ” she squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a deep breath. “How the fuck can you laugh at a time like this? You just watched me-”

Abraxas shushed her and pulled her into his arms, letting her cry into his chest. It seemed to be all that he was capable of, in his current state of intoxication. “He was going to hurt you.” She heard him whisper into her hair.

“Abraxas, what the fuck happened?” Tom's angry voice hissed from the doorway. Hermione flinched and pressed closer to the blond haired man. She knew that Tom was just as unlikely to harm her as Abraxas was, but he was formidable when angry and she would be lying if she said she wasn't intimidated by him.

“I'm not sure exactly,” Abraxas admitted. “It was an accident, she didn't mean to-”

“Of course she didn't Abraxas, look at her, she's bloody terrified,” Tom cut him off. “Did he hurt her?”

“No, I think he just scared her,” Abraxas answered.

“Hermione,” Tom murmured, prying her out of Abraxas' arms, “I need you to tell me what happened.” He was looking down at her, his green eyes softer than she'd ever seen them before, his fingers gently wiping away her tears.

“We were on a date but I didn't like him, all he wanted to talk about was sports,” she told him. “I told him that I wasn't interested – not just in him but in anyone – and I left the date early, we hadn't even ordered yet. I walked home from the restaurant and he followed me, he heard me telling Harry that I thought he was boring and he was angry.” She shuddered. “I didn't lock the door, I was on the phone, I didn't even think about it, and when I hung up he-” She took a deep breath and shook her head, not wanting to tell him the rest.

“He what?” Tom prodded, his voice tight with anger.

“He told me that it wasn't nice to call him boring,” she continued, “and I asked him to leave or I was going to call the police and he knocked my phone out of my hand and he grabbed me and- I can't Tom, please don't-”

He shushed her. “It's okay, we'll talk about it later, when you're ready. I'm going to take care of this,” he waved a dismissive hand at Cormac's body, “in a minute, but first I'm going to take you to mine and Abraxas' flat and get you settled in for the night.”

Under different circumstances Hermione would have been upset with the way he wasn't giving her a say in the matter, but at that moment she was more than happy to let him make the decisions as she wasn't sure she was capable.

“Stay here and don't touch anything,” he said, looking over at Abraxas. “I'll come back for you in a minute.” Tom scooped her up into his arms and carried her, bridal style, around the body and out of the kitchen.

She was aware, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she should be terrified. That letting Tom and Abraxas touch her after what had just happened to her indicated a deep level of trust that she wasn't quite sure she wanted to examine. She didn't know them well, they were her neighbors but they weren't exactly friends. There were, of course, the nights that she had to call Tom to fetch Abraxas when he found himself in her flat instead of theirs, but outside of that they didn't have much contact. They were practically strangers, she shouldn't trust them at all, but she _did_.

“You're being nice to me,” she murmured. “You're never nice to me.” It was true, Tom was more likely to sneer at her than he was to smile. She'd figured out after a while that it was just his personality, it had nothing to do with her, but she still dreaded having conversations with him.

“You've been traumatized,” he reminded her. “I'm an arse but I do have some tact.”

“I don't understand what's happening,” she admitted. Why hadn't he called the police yet? What did he mean when he said he'd take care of it? _Why_ was he being _nice_ to her?  He sighed heavily as he set her down on a soft surface. Her eyes flew open, though she wasn’t sure when she’d closed them, and she looked around in surprise at what she assumed was Tom and Abraxas’ bedroom. 

“Don’t over think it Hermione,” Tom suggested tiredly. “Do you need anything? I can get you some tea or sleeping pills or something.” He shifted uncomfortably and she got the impression that he was out of his element, that playing host to distraught women who had just committed murder was not something he was used to. 

“I need something to sleep in,” she told him, blushing slightly. “I just want to get out of this dress, I never want to see it again.”

Tom nodded and walked to the closet, returning a few moments later with a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. “They’re mine,” he informed her. “They’re closer to your size than anything of Abraxas’ would be but they’re still going to be a little big.” The t-shirt was black, so were the boxers, it made her wonder if she’d ever seen Tom wear anything other than black.

“ I’m going to go get Abraxas,” he announced. “Change, go to sleep, I promise that I’ll tell you what I can in the morning.” He turned and walked quickly towards the door.

“Tom,” she called softly. He stopped in his tracks. “Thank you.”

He gave her a curt nod before he left the room, closing the door behind him. 

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly before climbing to her feet and pulling her dress off over her head. It fell to the floor, followed closely by her bra and she kicked it angrily. She put the t-shirt and boxers that Tom had given her on and then she just stood there, in the middle of the room, staring at the dark purple dress.

-oOo-

When Tom returned to Hermione's apartment the first thing he did was call his usual clean up crew. He gave them the address and hung up, not bothering to explain himself because, well, he never explained himself to anyone. 

Abraxas was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him, and Tom fought back an irritated sigh because he didn't understand why Abraxas was always  _ staring _ at him.”What?” he asked. Abraxas flinched at his tone. 

“Why aren't we calling the police?” Abraxas asked. “It was an accident, she didn't mean to kill him. Hell, it was self defense, he attacked her.”

“Think about it Abraxas, there's no sign of forced entry, no bruises on her person, the only witness to the crime is an intoxicated man who happens to be dating the suspected leader of a crime ring, what judge is going to believe that this was an accident?” 

“So you're going to clean this up and make it go away for her?” Abraxas pressed. Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a harsh sigh.

“You say that as if I'm not aware of your little crush on the girl,” Tom bit out. “You think I don't realize what you're doing when you get pissed and wander in here at three am using a spare key she has no idea exists?” Abraxas blushed. “Yes, I'm going to clean this up and make it go away for her. Because I know you like her and, quite frankly, so do I.” 

Abraxas stared at him in surprise. “You- Since when?” he demanded. Tom let out a humorless laugh. 

“I dug into her background when you started your little game with her,” he admitted. “Did you know she graduated top of her class? She's brilliant, almost a genius.”

“I'd never leave you for her,” Abraxas murmured. Tom gave him a sharp look.

“I know that, I didn't have her looked into because I thought she was a threat,” he said harshly.

Abraxas frowned. “Then why-?” 

“I want to invite her to join our relationship,” Tom told him. “I hadn't mentioned it to you yet because I didn't know how to bring it up. I-” he shifted uncomfortably “-you know how I feel about you, but I want her too and I know that as much as you... feel for me, you want her as well and I figured, maybe, if we explained to her what our intentions are she might decide that she wants us as well.”

“And what are our intentions?” Abraxas asked, his eyes fixed on the floor. “Because I don't want a one off Tom, not with her. She's worth more than that.”

“You don't understand. I want to bring her into our relationship, permanently. You, her, and me, forever. Not a one off,” Tom explained. Abraxas looked up to meet his eyes. “She's... I want to give her the world. I want to give both of you the world.”

He wasn't good with feelings. He could spin a web of lies and fake just about any emotion he wanted with anyone and have them believe it. Anyone but Abraxas, and more than likely Hermione, though he had never tried with her. 

“Okay, we'll have to plan it right,” Abraxas said softly, “she's been through a lot and it might take her a while to warm up to the idea of what we intend to propose.” 

Tom nodded in agreement. “You should get out of here,” he said, changing the subject. “There's a traumatized woman in our bed, you should go check on her.” 

“Are you going to be home tonight?” Abraxas asked. 

“Yes, as soon as I'm done here,” Tom assured him. Abraxas closed the distance between them to drop a brief kiss on his lips.

“I'll see you later then,” he said, smiling. Tom watched as he turned and walked out of the kitchen, careful to avoid stepping in the large pool of blood that was blocking the majority of the walkway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please remember to feed the magical review eating fairy!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please remember to feed the magical review eating fairy!


End file.
